Emerging from hibernation: The Lesser Spotted Archers at The Larches

I've been busy here... at night, instead of blogging, I sleep. Sorry.

Mind you, during the day [my days seem to comprise more hours than the standard 24] I squeeze in a marketing job, minimal housework, dinners etc, bottle washing, lamb feeding, the chickens and, now that my garden is just beginning to recover from 18 months of rubbish weather, a spot of seed sowing and land management. I'm considering a day off tomorrow at Malvern Spring Show, though that said, it's pouring from the sky today and if this weather continues I might just join the lambs in the stables who are huddled around a heat lamp!

Lambs are lively little things and love nothing more than play time with the sproglets! [If you can't see this video in email format click the title of the post to be transported to my blog.]

I've three Bantam hens sitting on approximately 15 eggs. None of the eggs belong to the Bantams, instead they are sitting on a mixed brood of Welsummers, Salmon Faverelles and Heinz57's! I'm praying that the hatchlings will be mainly hens rather than roosters but you never can tell. With luck they'll hatch next week when the weather may again improve, it's dreadful at the moment.


Here at The Larches we favour animals being free to wander. Our chooks are free range as soon as they're big enough to withstand the advances of the two cats. Recently we released the, now grown, Salmon Faverelles; the 10yo's rare breed chickens. This did not go well; our original rooster, Road Runner, who is half the size of Lucky the new boy but twice as aggressive, decided to pick a fight to the death with the new interloper. But for The Hubby's interference, one or both roosters would have needed hospitalization.


After spraying combs and necks with purple antiseptic spray we returned the rare breed chickens to their 3m x 3m enclosure. Sad.


Wondering what to do next, Hubby and I pondered our options until a neighbour appeared asking if we had a spare rooster to take care of his 40+ hens! Was he sent by St Francis of Assisi I wondered? A summit of Archers was required to see if the sproglets would agree terms with the neighbour, money was never an option, the children were more concerned that rooster would be sad at being forced into exile. In the end we all agreed that the neighbour could 'borrow' rooster and that afternoon we placed him in a dark box and walked down the bridlepath, passing one neighbour's land, across the small village road and down the hill to our next neighbour's property.


We locked rooster in a shed located a the bottom of field on the neighbour's land and 40 hens clucked at him through the door. He was clearly furious but he needed to be locked in for a couple of days, with food and water of course, in order to imprint his new home to his memory.


Two days later he'd escaped. He was soon spotted by our closest neighbour as he jumped into his hen compound. Before Road Runner had time to completely murder our neighbour's prize rooster, he was caught (again) and taken back to his new home.


Two further days and he had escaped again, this time he avoided our neighbour and came back home to us, his real home. Who knew roosters had homing pigeon instincts?!


I get the hint. He can stay. The sproglets and our hens are delighted. The rare breed chooks will need a bigger compound! Sheesh!

I'm a mummy again.....

Following on from my foray into lambing, I could not resist when offered two cade lambs.

They were both from triplets families and the farmer had decided not to raise them the conventional way, allowing their mothers to raise two other siblings each on the same number of  bosoms. [Technical term.]

I had already organised my holding number etc and had been cleared to have sheep and goats since last spring, plus I’d read every article going on the web.... I was primed for the call and when it came I said yes!

Both are girls and the sproglets made me promise that they are going to be pets, glorified lawnmowers, (they couldn’t be persuaded to raise meat sheep just yet.)

The smallest lamb, Moon, belongs to the 9yo and the hunky chunky one is the responsibility of the 7yo.... so I’m raising that one!

The tiny one was thought to be a twin, not a triplet and her mother was fed accordingly, hence the disparity in size. She more than makes up for it in personality and can look very like Gismo from the 1984 movie Gremlins.

They are just over one week old and, like all babies, we have had our trials and tribulations. First the big lamb wouldn’t feed. She refused the bottle for almost two days and so I took myself off to the farm shop and bought a syringe which hubby doctored, adding 2” of plastic tube. We fed her several tubes of milk this way and after that she seemed to get a taste for it and soon took to the bottle and the replacement lamb milk.... that costs a fortune.

Raising two lambs like this will cost approximately £60, as well as time and effort so you can understand why the vast majority of farmers are less than enthused with this method. I feed at 6.30am, 11.30am 5.30pm and 11pm and this seems to suffice. When she’s able the 9yo feeds with me and happily gets up for the 6.30 feed, the 7yo has resisted the offer.

At the moment they are in a stable and will probably live there for the next 10 – 15 days till we can wean them onto lamb creep and another molasses feed my friends has told me about. After that they’ll be out in a tiny compound and then onto a larger field.

The next stage is getting them used to their harnesses – essential if we are the ‘show’ at the huge agricultural show in early August. Bearing in mind the growth rate of a lamb I’m rather concerned to see whether my sprogs will walk the ring or be dragged around it... Time will tell!

Food and Will the Shetland pony

Will has come as a guest of The Larches! The children are ecstatic. I was determined not to be happy but he is sooo cute. Clearly my life of poo will be extended to horse poo. I already have a BA Hons in child poo, cow poo, chicken poo and very occasionally cat poo (the worst.)

This morning I drove to Ludlow in Dizzy Disco. Dropped the 7yo to her friend's house so that they could play at being pop stars and apply makeup badly while the 5yo and I went PROPER shopping. Having bribed him first with a handmade pizza from De Grey's the patisserie I bought myself enough time to purchase naughty desserts; creme brule, marzipan treats and fruit tarts. While the 5yo still munched happily we bought bacon at the butcher DW Wall and then we toddled off to the Monkland Cheese Shop to sample and buy local brie, a round of blue and a really delicious hard goat cheese. Interestingly The Telegraph (British National newspaper) had sent a food writer to Ludlow who was loitering with a photographer. She was glamorous and certainly knew her cheeses....as she encouraged us to spill the beans on our fave foods us food-aholics in the shop blossomed while the 5yo repeated over and over 'Can we go yet, can we go yet, can we go yet? Pleeeese..?' Heathen!





Weather's looking good for the weekend. Menu is sorted, just beds to make and then I'm going to have me a glass of something chilled in the garden before guests arrive.... Oh hang on there's someone at the door....

....My neighbour just brought Timmy round to visit. He's a tiny lamb and his mummy died. I seriously thought she was seeing if I wanted him... YES I DO, HE'S GORGEOUS! But it turns out she wants him too and he was only over for a visit....shame, but possibly a lucky escape for this year, as there's rather a lot on at The Larches...Oh well, back to the beds..

Sheep rustling....well almost...

Due to my previous post I have been advised by a very kind fellow blogger not to get too distressed by my attempt to clean the house before guests arrive. Thank you Natural Selection. Deep breath....

Just as well really as one of my stable tenants has just ridden up with a lamb slung across her saddle which had been clipped by a rubbish motorist. We have now spent the best part of 30 mins travelling the hills and dales searching for a mummy sheep..... Secretly I wanted to keep said lamb to raise myself but I know that wasn't nature's intention.... BUT I still have several of the 5yo's bottles and teats that I could fashion into sheep bosoms... Ok, Ok I hear you! Baby lamb is best left to search for his mummy .... We certainly placed him with all the mummy's with the black spots that graze across the hills and he was eating grass so I'm hoping he'll be ok ....

Having carried the cutie in my arms I now smell rather interesting and am once again very smug about having purchased Dizzy Disco at the auction. As the vehicle smells like a farmer's armpit I feel the lamb must have felt very at home in the footwell.

When we arrived back at the house the 5yo and the 7yo were really misty eyed, I presume the country-side is so full of new joys and interests for them....

'Mummy?' they said.

'Yes Darlings?' I replied putting on my flowery pinny and whistling for a garden robin to come sit on my finger...

'Can we play Nintendo DS now?....'

....Grrrrrrrrr

No Horses, No Ponies Thank you.

Wow we're really motoring, kicking ass in the garden department. Husband's petrol chainsaw is cooking on gas, if you'll pardon my mixed metaphor. Trees are being felled, parts of the garden revealed for the first time in 10 years. Dizzy Disco is thoroughly enjoying being a part of the gardening team as we attach a tow rope to him, driving off to pull out deep shrub roots.




The stables are really quite busy now, creating a nice steady- if little, income. All welcome. We have three very social parent/child combinations and a lovely man with a hunter and an unbroken Shetland. It's wonderful seeing the stables buzz and my two sproglets are included in mucking out, feeding and grooming. Occasionally, out of the kindness of someone's heart they are put on a horse and walked down to the menage. It's idyllic but I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO INTENTION OF GETTING A HORSE. The plan may be to re-start riding lessons next year continuing on from where we left off in Oxford before I was thrown off and needed ankle surgery! So ABSOLUTELY NO horses for the next few years. (Just so we're clear ok?)

The kids are outside most of the time now as the bottom of the bath will testify! The 7yo, a very creative girl, has invented a new game a derivative of paintball - she rolls wet clay, the colour of diarrhea, into a neat golf-sized ball and throws it at her brother. If it hits the 5yo and leaves a mark she scores a point. Generally he thinks this is pretty funny - weirdo! I, being the gardener just use the clay and molehills for planting! Boring I know but that's just me!

The pond is an interesting spot and so far only Daddy has managed to fall in! There are pairs of common newt and millions (I do not exaggerate!) of tadpoles who have escaped the egg sack and are now being predated on by all sorts of creatures that I suspect to be aliens from another planet.

The next door neighbour took his 2 pigs for slaughter. This morning we ate sausages made from the pigs we sporadically helped feed. I'm sure they tasted so nice thanks to that huge apple crumble we gave them in October! My children are beginning to understand the concept of raising meat to eat and with this in mind we are considering raising two little lambs who are mummyless. They are currently residing in a tree farm (no they are not living in the trees silly but rather in one of their barns, raised by two young brothers.) As soon as the lambs are comfortable on the bottle we may be considered for adoption. I had THE conversation with my offspring...

'Now, you understand that we will send these lambs to market when they're older?'
The 7yo nods enthusiastically licking her lips but the 5yo sort of looks at me side-on! I continued:
'You can have one lamb and you can have the other,' I said pointing to each child.
'When we sell your lambs you can use the money we make from the meat to buy something. What would you like to buy?'
The 5yo seemed to immediately approve of this concept.
'I'm getting Star Wars Lego.'
'Good idea. What about you?'
Daughter smiled.
'I'm buying a Shetland Pony and D and L (girls with horses at our stables) are going to break it for me.'

O shit, that SO backfired.